THE WORKING OF THE RULE.
It must not be forgotten that this rule is one of proportionals, as its name imports. It therefore teaches proportion in all its relations, social and political; it is the rule of our country, and seeks to develop that beautiful equality and justice, so conspicuous in all our institutions, exemplified in the following well-known legal and constitutional maxim, viz. "One man may steal a horse, but another must not look over the hedge."
It is a maxim of English law, that punishment should be proportionate to the offence, and have a relation to the moral turpitude of the offender. Hence the seducer and adulterer only inquire, "What's the damage?" By the same rule, it is held highly penal to sell the only ripe fruit in England, roasted apples; and the stock in trade of the basket woman is confiscated. She, too, is sent to the Counter—because she is not rich enough to keep one with a shop attached.
CALLED TO ACCOUNT.
This brings us to the rationale of reward, and shows us the policy of making a prison superior to a poor-house. This wise arrangement of the collective wisdom of the Rule of Three (the three estates) is upon the principle of counter-irritation, that is, the best way to administer to the miserable is to inflict more misery, just as we put a blister on one part to subdue inflammation on another, or set up a mercurial disease to cure a liver complaint. On the other hand, we cure villany by increased rations of beef, bread, beer, and potatoes, in accordance with the maxim, that "the nearest way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
On the same principle of "Proportion," the operative is to have for his share the pleasure of doing the labour; for if one man had the labour and the gains too, it would be abominable, and destructive to all the usages of society.
It is also strictly proportional, that we should pay not only for what we have, but for that which we have not. Thus church-rates ought to be inflicted, not so much for the benefit of the church, but as the substitute for that wholesome discipline of flagellation, unhappily discontinued, and for the "good of the soul;" for if the spiritual benefit be great to those who pay for what they receive only, how great must be the reward of those who are content to pay for that which, they not only do not receive, but which they will not have at any price! Hence, it is possible that even dissenters may be saved—the trouble of spending their money in other ways.
The "Tax upon Incomes" affords also a striking example of the doctrine of Proportionals. It is so beautifully equalized, that the loss upon one branch of trade is not to be set off against the gain of another, the object of the act being, no doubt, to put a stop to trade altogether, as the best means of placing things statu quo, the grand desideratum of modern legislation.
"Bear ye each other's burdens" is a sublime maxim. The principle of the lever is well brought to bear in the doctrine of proportionals—and shows how to shift the weight of taxation from the shoulders of the rich upon those of the poor—
A SLIDING SCALE.
The laws and regulations for the conduct of our civil polity and social condition being founded on these divine principles, it is assumed as a fundamental maxim, that "great folks will be biggest," and he who has not learned that this is the ideal of true proportion, and who does not recognise it in his practical philosophy, will be compelled to knock his head against a wall to the day of his dissolution.
"BROKEN DOWN."
RULE VIII.
FRACTIONS.
The word Fractions is from the Latin "Fractus," broken. A Fraction is therefore a part or broken piece. A broken head is a fraction; a broken heart is a fraction; a bankrupt is a fraction—he is broken up; yet a horse is not a fraction, although he may be broken in—but his rider may have a broken neck, which is called an irreducible fraction. Speaking generally, therefore, a fraction may be considered as a "Tarnation Smashification."
FRACTIONAL SIGNS.
Fractions are of two kinds, Vulgar and Decimal. Vulgar fractions are used for common purposes, and examples may be seen in the plebeian part of our commonalty, such as coal-heavers, costermongers, sheriff's-officers, bailiffs, bagmen, cabmen, excisemen, lord-mayors, lady-mayoresses, carpet-knights and auctioneers.
Vulgar fractions may be known by the way in which they express themselves. They are more expressive than decimals; and the words, Go it, Jerry—Jim along Josey—What are you at?—What are you arter?—Variety—Don't you wish you may get it?—All round my hat—Over the left—All right, and no mistake—Flare up, my covies—I should think so—with those inexpressible expletives which add so much to the force and elegance of our language, may be taken as specimens of Fractions.
BREAKING UP NO HOLIDAY,
OR A
SALE BY AUCTION, IN BLANK VERSE.
By Doubledust Puffitoff, Esq.
"AN ANCIENT AND MODERN MUG."
My Lords! Ladies and Gentlemen.
Cognoscenti, virtuosi, literati,
"Muffs," "mulls," and Flukins De Grati,
F.R.S.'s, F.A.S.'s and A.S.S.'s,
Curiosities of curiosity,
Cokletops and Old-bucks in variety,
"Court scum," "nobs," beaks, and humdrum,
And all that's rare and rum,
Ad infinitum,
Book-worms, bibliophilists, and antiquarians,
Soirarians, and Belle-Lettre-arians,
Single men of fashion, De Horsa,
De Calfa, De Goosa, De Donka,
De la De Palma de ston a,
Male Prima Donna.
Toad-eaters, lickspittles and glozers,
"Do nothings," "know nothings," and "dozers,"
"Tricksters," and "hucksters," and "snoozlers,"
Cozeners and bamboozlers,
Fumblers and mumblers,
Bunglers and stumblers,
Pokers and jokers,
Out and out "sticklers,"
And "very particulars;"
Oglers,
Bogglers,
Apron danglers,
And police "manglers,"
Bargain hunters—and grunters,
Bran-new saints made out of old sinners,
And young beginners,
Old bucks,
Lame ducks;
"Curmudgeons," "flats," and "gudgeons,"
Come all that's fashionable,
Femmes de Paradisiacal,
Whimsical and lackadaisical,
Languishing or sighing,
Dreaming or dying,
Harpies and beldames, dowagers and vidders,
And be my bidders,
"Black legs" and "blue stockings," walk up, walk up,
And see
What you shall see,
A perfect unique
Display of art, and a Luscious Natura,
As I before said when I set you all agog,
In this here seven-and-sixpenny catalogue.
LOT I.
Here, Ladies, and Gentlemen, is a lot,
Being the earliest that must "go to pot."
I do declare,
'Tis very rare,
And mighty curious,
And nothing spurious,
Preserved from bye-gone ages,
Embalmed in sacred pages,
Of ancient poetry.
Who'll bid, who'll buy?
Be not shy,
Bid high.
Behold—the identical cupboard,
Of old Mother Hubbard;
The identical hat
The little dog wore
When nursing the cat;
The identical pipe
The little dog smoked
When she brought him the tripe;
The identical coffin
That set the dog laughing,
With these two are sorted,
As "neat as imported."
A brick of the corner
Of little Jack Horner,
Who eat of a Christmas pie;
He put in his thumb
And he pulled out "a plum,"
As you must do if you buy.
LOT II.
The next most splendid, recherché and venerable,
Spick and span old antique, ingenerable
By modern authors or by modern art,
A sui generis lot, not to be matched.
By Lucifer himself not to be catched
By an old song, as the last was—
I speak poss.
First is an original, aboriginal,
Primary, first hand, virgin copy,
Mouldy, musty, cobwebby, and ropy,
Of Dean Swift's "Maw wallop,"
With notes by Mrs. Trollope,
Which wraps the whole up
So decently, it takes the soul up
To the third heaven of ecstasy;
To which is added, An Essay upon Jalap.
Second, is the missal of old Nick,
Richly illuminated with flames ad flamina,
Fresh from "Blazes;"
Its smell of brimstone is sublime;
'Tis dedicated to the Ranters
And the Canters
Of Exeter Hall in the dog days,
Cum multis aliis ad gammona.
Who'll bid for this whole lot? one thousand—two,
Three, four, five, six,—say seven, and see what I will do.
"Gone!"
Doctor Lardner, I've knocked it down to you.
LOT III.
Now come the gems divine,
Each gem a shrine,
Whence men may fish up,
And after dish up,
Without a Bishop,
A heavenly worship;
And adore
These relics before.
First, is the vase de Barberino,
The Helmet of Mambrino
So renowned
In all climes
In which the cat was drowned;
Don Quixote's spear, and shield, and armour,
Lately worn by Alderman Harmer
Against the "Times."
Second, the sword of Jack the Giant Killer,
Made o' th' siller
Spent at the Ipswich election,
Braving detection.
Third, is the wishing cap of Fortunatus,
Worn by all young ladies in their teens,
That when they're married they may have the reins.
Fourth, is the night cap of the Cock-lane ghost,
When he fright'ned
The enlight'ned
Chartist host.
Fifth, is a stone out of the wall,
Of Pyramus and Thisbe,
And a charmed echo of Nick Bottom's roar,
Or louder snore
Of Mr. Muntz, when he thinks Lord John a bore.
Sixth, one of the seven-leagued boots, in which is
Made the interminable of Cobden's speeches,
Loose as the old coal-heaver Huntington's
Heaven-born breeches.
Seventh, the bottle of the bottle-conjurer,
Into which Lord Mounteagle, to please himself,
Can squeeze himself,
When in some plan of plunder or of pelf
He wants to ease himself.
Eighth, is the toe nail of the Dragon of Wantley,
Which Berkeley Grantley
Used as a sort of scarifying razor
Upon a Fraser.
Ninth, is the dish of Corn Law furmitory,
Into which Tom Thumb (Lord John) did jump when he
Let in another Ministry.
Tenth, a child's caul, a certain preservation
From drowning, useful to the nation,
In this great age of tea-to-tality,
And used by Mr. Buckingham
As an hydraulic ram,
To keep him dry,
When round the world to go he late did try.
Eleventh, is a bottle of pigeon's milk,
Soft as silk,
Which Boreing to the "Factory" deputation sent,
By way of reparation
For the depredation
Of sessions of misgovernment.
Twelfth, is the story of a cock and bull,
Edited by queer Joseph, and oft related to the house
When full.
Thirteenth, the eyelid of Homer, and the eye
Identical and very certain,
Of Betty Martin.
And, lastly, now to end this, Billy Martin, Peter
Parley, Prattle,
Are three blue beans in a blown bladder.
Rattle, bladder, rattle.
KNOCKING DOWN THE LOT.
DONE BY INTEREST.
RULE IX.
INTEREST, &c.
To think of getting on in this world without Interest, is ridiculous. Place and Promotion are not for Fitness or Worthiness, but to serve particular Interests, private or public; and yet a number of very simple persons, who have as large a green streak in them as a sage cheese, without its sageness, are continually wondering that virtue and talent do not get all the "good things" of a vicious community. Punch forbid! Is not virtue declared to be its own reward? and as to talent,—let a man be content with that. It is a positive monopoly to covet wit and money too.
AT A PREMIUM AND DISCOUNT.
To take care of our Interest is the great law of Nature, and is universally followed. Every one for himself, and Fate for us all, as the donkey said when he danced among the chickens, is as profound a maxim as the gnothi seauton of Plato. "Take care of yourself" is of more importance than "Know thyself." To take care of oneself is a science which comes home to every man's business and bosom. It is "wisdom" identified with our personal character. It is philosophy turned to account. It is morality above par. It is a religion in which "every man may be his own parson," find his Bible in his ledger, his Creed in the "stock-list," his Psalter in the tariff, his Book of Common Prayer in the railway and canal shares, his Temple in the Royal Exchange, his Altar in his counter, and his God in his money.
THE OLD AND NEW PRINCIPLE—BOTH WITH CREDIT.
Principle, or Principal, is an old term used by our forefathers in "money matters" and commercial transactions, but is now obsolete. It formerly represented capital, and raised the British merchant in the scale of nations; but it is now a maxim of trade to discard Principle as not being consistent with Interest. It is paradoxically Capital to take care of our Interest, but it seldom requires any Principle to do so.
"The want of money is the root of all evil." Such is the new reading, according to the translation of a new sect called the Tinites. In the orthodox translation, the love of money was unfortunately rendered. To be without money is worse than being without brains—for this reason we should oppose all dangerous innovations, which in any way have a tendency to disturb the "balance of Capital." Right is not to usurp might. We are not, for the sake of Quixotic experiment, to invade the interests of the landed proprietor by an Anti-Corn Law movement, nor the vested right of doing wrong, which the various close corporations of law, physic, and trade, &c. have so long maintained, making England the envy of the world and the glory of surrounding nations.
THE TIN-DER PASSION.
Interest, therefore, teaches us to interest ourselves for our own interests, and to keep them continually in view in all our transactions. When a man loses sight of his own interests he is morally blind; he must, therefore, according to this rule, walk with his eyes open, and be wide awake to every move—keep the weather-eye open, and not have one eye up the chimney and the other in the pot, but both stedfastly fixed on the main chance.
Interest teaches us also to swear to anything and admit nothing; to prove, by the devil's rhetoric, that black is white and white black; to tamper, to shuffle, to misrepresent, to falsify, to scheme, to undervalue, to entangle, to evade, to delay, to humbug, and to cheat in virtue of the monied interest.
FAITH AND DUTY.
In the days of our forefathers, we had a most excellent compendium of Faith and Duty, called the "Church Catechism," which taught us not only to "fear God and honour the King," but to be "true and just in all our dealings." The "fast and loose," "free and easy" system of "liberality," shuts the Creed and the Catechism out of half our schools; and worldliness teaches in its place the creed of Mammon. Instead of being taught to worship God, we are taught to worship money. Instead of honouring the Queen, we are told to bow down to the "golden image" which trade has set up; we no longer consult our conscience, but our pocket; for principle we read interest—for piety, pelf.
In illustration of this, the following "cut and dry" "'Change Catechism," which fell from the pocket of a Latitudinarian bill-broker, is subjoined, as affording the best examples of the Rule of Interest.